


A Masked Affair

by maideniron



Category: Hannibal - Fandom, The Phantom of the Opera, hannigram - Fandom
Genre: 1/?, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2013-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-25 02:27:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/947514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maideniron/pseuds/maideniron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will Graham is a ballet boy, slaving away to make Monsieur Crawford proud. Little does he know that there is a bigger authority to please, a beast named Hannibal Lecter, the Opera Ghost and also known as The Phantom of the Opera. But what happens when sitting behind a mirror gets tiring? What will happen once the Phantom of the Opera reveals himself to the ever most talented Will Graham?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Masked Affair

**Author's Note:**

> Don't be shy to give feedback! I love criticism.

PROLOGUE

The creature watched as a young boy with curly russet hair was brought into his Opera House. He was small, a child at no more than the age of nine. Something struck the creature, the fearsome gargoyle that preyed on the diversion of others, possessiveness. The need to shield the boy from the horrors of the world, to be what he needed only. The young prodigy was different from the rest of the population. He had something dark inside him that even the Opera Ghost could see, potential, evilness. A cunning smirk curled on his scarred yet defined lips, that was no longer covered by a mask, seeing as from that moment on he would no longer need to hide himself. He would no longer have to hide who he truly was, instead embrace to the young child the wonders of being the villain and defeating the heroes.

Hannibal continued to watch and listen as the ballet master, Monsieur Crawford, spoke to the child, cooing to him almost as he clung to his side. Tears stung in the boy’s eyes, transparent releases of emotion that strained down his cheeks and trickled underneath his chin, then all the way to the collar of his ragged jacket. The monster predicted a loss, perhaps a death in the family? At the moment he didn’t have to be sure of why the boy was crying, but of how long. By the looks of it, it seemed permanent. Certainly Monsieur Crawford wouldn’t turn the boy away, even when he did reach the respectful age of eighteen.

He continued to follow them from above the rafters, peeking in as the large man brought the small boy into one of the empty dressing rooms with a bed placed on the floor. Certainly he didn’t expect him to sleep on a mattress on the floor, what loneliness the boy would have. Logical sense would be to put him in a room with other children, or adults. One simply doesn’t just leave a child who just experienced a great loss in their family in a room alone. Once he pondered the thought, he realized that it would be a great opportunity to watch the boy, protect him in his sleep. Get to know him without actually meeting him. For if he showed himself to the child, the boy would be frightened. The Opera Ghost would have to wait, wait and lurk until he could properly introduce himself.

Deep into the night, the Phantom found himself lurking behind the mirror in the boy’s dressing room. The boy, where was his manners? He was called Will. Will Graham, such a fragile little thing. He seemed to have night terrors, but the man forced himself to watch as the boy began to toss and turn within the bed, clutching the sheet and sweating profusely. Even as wrong as it was, Hannibal found the sudden urge to push open the mirror and clutch the boy into his arms. The pain, he could see it written all over his face. The pain he once endured, and to see anyone experience such demons was excruciating. Now was not the time, he denied himself. He could meet with the boy, but only in voice. His physical appearance would stay hidden until the right time. Which could be years, but at the heaving age of thirty, Hannibal was willing to wait.

However, Hannibal hoped that Will didn’t feel alone, even though his eyes could not see him through the pigmented mirror. Seeing is not always the sole sense to depend on. Sometimes one has to listen to see the true picture behind the curtain, or in this case a _mask_.

**Author's Note:**

> I know it was short, but I felt like I had to get that out there. Don't be afraid to comment! I enabled anonymous commenting so feel free!


End file.
